Chapter Text
“Daphne!” Anthony shouted after his sister’s retreating footsteps. She picked up her pace and burst through a door leading back to the ball. He gritted his teeth and followed her, passing by the wallflowers, dodging eager debutants, and side-stepping his gentleman friends. Finally, she paused at the refreshment table and was downing a glass of lemonade when he grabbed her by the elbow.
“Can I have a word?” he asked through tight lips, glancing over his shoulder to confirm that his mother was still occupied in conversation with Lady Granville.
Daphne pulled her arm forward to free herself from his grasp. Her eyes flashed dangerously at him.
“The only word you can have to say to me is sorry,” she hissed only loud enough for Anthony to hear.
Before he could ask what he needed to apologise for she clarified, “You almost killed Simon to preserve my honour as a lady—the very same honour you have just now put into question for Miss Sharma. You are a hypocrite, brother, and I deserve an apology for it is clear now that you only sought to duel Simon for your own pride.”
Anthony curled his hands into fists, “Are you saying I have no honour?”
Daphne straightened her back, jutted her chin up and glowered at her eldest brother. “Not unless you marry Miss Sharma.”
Anthony felt the air whoosh from his lungs.
“Marry her?” he sputtered, “Nothing happened!”
Daphne snorted in a most unladylike manner. She turned back to the refreshment table, downed another glass of lemonade, then said in Anthony’s ear, “Can you be certain you were not seen entering the same room together unchaperoned? Regardless, if anybody other than I witnessed how you and Miss Sharma were embracing—”
“We were not!” Anthony said indignantly.
“—you would be forced to marry,” she continued, “Alas, I am not a man, and I am your sister, so it seems you have been given an opportunity, Anthony, to honourably offer marriage to Miss Sharma without scandal.”
Anthony shook his head, words lost to him, as he watched his sister suggest the unfathomable—marrying Miss Sharma. His imagination suddenly became unrestrained and his greatest desires flashed before his eyes: kneeling before the woman he had almost ruined in his father’s library just minutes ago, asking her to be his wife, her accepting, standing at an altar exchanging vows, kissing her, pleasuring her, having children with her, growing old with her…
And then it all stopped. Memories replaced his dreams: his father’s cold body, his pregnant mother screaming in grief, learning how to be a viscount without support, and his mother retreating from the world and wishing for death. Finally, his memories and his dreams merged so that his mother’s grief stricken face became Kate’s wailing over his own cold body. His stomach clenched tightly.
Daphne watched her brother’s face contort with fear and grabbed his hand, guessing that his anguish was only a case of premarital jitters.
“You said you wanted to marry this season. Well, Miss Sharma would make the perfect viscountess. By all accounts she is resourceful, accomplished and raised her sister to be named the diamond of the season. She is not a girl just out of leading strings, she knows of the world, has faced hardship and survived it. I cannot imagine a more fitting candidate to be your wife.”
Anthony rubbed his temple and was surprised to find his skin slippery with sweat. The room did feel quite hot. He fidgeted with his cravat as he mulled over Daphne’s words. In the corner of his eye he saw Miss Edwina conversing with her mother, worry lines marking her youthful forehead. Lady Mary scanned the room. Anthony suddenly realised they were looking for Kate. He wondered if she was still waiting in the library or if she had left and was somewhere in this very room. He looked around nervously, not ready to face her again so soon after their last encounter.
“I have to go,” he said abruptly, stalking off to his chambers to put an end to the night. But it was many hours before sleep reached him.
As he lay in bed he allowed his mind to wander back to Kate’s warm breath on his face and her lips so tantalisingly close to his own. He could almost smell her on his clothes: lilies and soap. She was an intoxicating siren tempting him away from every rational plan he had made for his life. He wanted her, and not just to fulfil his lusty desires. The way she had calmly managed his anxiety after her bee sting, and how she had spoken of her father that night in the library, stirred feelings in him that he had never known, not even with Siena.
He could not dispute Daphne’s words of recommendation; Kate would make the perfect viscountess. Arguably, she was a better choice than her younger sister because she was more mature, and had experience readying her sister for society. With three sisters yet unmarried he needed a capable woman by his side to ensure respectable and happy marriages for each of them. Kate could do it. But at what cost?
He scrutinised his memories of Kate, searching for clues of her feelings toward him in their interactions. She desired him, he was certain of that, but love?
I hate you.
She had spoken the words with passion but it had not been hatred that filled her eyes. He could not be certain of her feelings toward him. Perhaps they were as complicated as his own for her. But felt sure it was not love.
If he was careful, perhaps making Kate Sharma his wife would work, but it would not be easy. He must manage his feelings so as not to encourage hers. Anthony had never had to show restraint fulfilling his lustful fantasies before but Kate was a lady and if she was to be his wife he could not lose himself. Particularly, as the lines between lust and love seemed to blur too easily with her.
Before long, his thoughts were consumed with a plan that would ensure his status as a gentleman. And as he drifted off to sleep, he was content in the knowledge that no lady was in danger of loving him, nor would they ever be, so long as he stuck to the plan.
Aubrey Hall was buzzing with activity by the time Kate and Edwina left their room in the morning. Guests filled the sunlit corridors, footmen and maids bustled around them carrying luggage to the carriages lined up outside. The commotion was overwhelming for Kate who felt more out of place now than she had ever been at Aubrey Hall. She was but a guest, perhaps an unwelcome one if Lord Bridgerton had regrets from last night, and she was eager to leave.
She looked at her sister, who was wearing a pale baby pink gown with matching gloves. Her expression was slightly dour but whenever an acquaintance bid them a good morning she was quick to conjure a convincing smile. Kate felt she could not perform the usual pleasantries expected by genteel society and simply nodded.
They made their way downstairs where Lady Danbury and Mary were waiting for them. Lady Danbury wore a magnificent black top hat that matched her intimidating walking stick.
“Come, let us depart,” Lady Danbury announced and they walked toward the front doors.
The Bridgerton family stood on the steps looking the very picture of happy domesticity. Kate sensed before she saw that Anthony was not amongst them. Probably locked away in his study, avoiding the Sharmas, Kate thought. She was not sure if she was disappointed or relieved not to see him.
They descended down the stairs and Kate kept her head down until she heard Lady Bridgerton bid her and Edwina farewell. She looked up and plastered on as genuine a smile as she could muster before letting it slide quickly off her face.
“I’m sorry things did not go as planned, Bon,” Kate said to Edwina as they walked toward their waiting carriage.
Edwina shrugged, “It is not your fault Didi. We both did everything we could have done. The Viscount’s feelings are clearly not there for me… perhaps they are elsewhere.”
Guilt threatened to overwhelm Kate as she saw Lady Danbury give her a disapproving look. She knew her sister like she knew her own mind; Edwina blamed herself for not securing Lord Bridgerton’s hand. When in reality it was she, Kate, who had ruined her sister’s chances, with feelings and clandestine meetings. She simply could not go on allowing Edwina to bear responsibility for this failed visit. She must do what Lady Danbury suggested and be honest with her sister, regardless of the consequences.
“Edwina,” she called, fear gripping her heart in a vice, “There is something I must tell you…”
“Wait!”
She turned.
“Lord Bridgerton,” she said under her breath, her heart immediately racing at the sight of him running down the stairs.
He looked so determined as he strode forward, dressed impeccably, except for his hair which was tousled. She imagined him perfecting his hair in the mirror before unthinkingly running his fingers through it when he was overcome by nerves.
“Might I speak with you?” he asked.
“Of course,” Kate nodded, stepping toward him.
He reached her, one knee bending toward the ground when suddenly he caught sight of Edwina behind her and hesitated. He corrected himself, straightening back up, but it was too late. Kate felt her sister freeze and saw Lady Bridgerton take a step forward, a hand clutched to her chest.
“Uh, can we have a moment to speak inside… privately?” he asked, looking panicked, as if all the courage he had been building up to this moment had vanished.
Kate’s eyes were wide with shock, knowing as they all did now, what exactly he wanted to say to her privately. She glanced quickly at Edwina who appeared confused and suddenly Kate was not entirely sure if her sister had put together what was happening. Lady Mary and Lady Danbury exited the carriage. As she watched them she felt a warm hand grasp her own. She did not have to look to know it was Anthony because a hot thrill shot through her chest just as it always did whenever they touched.
She gasped, involuntarily, as Anthony briskly pulled her toward the house, every eye upon them. There was no time to take in each person’s expression, especially when she was working hard to breathe through her own feelings, but she did take note of the Duchess of Hastings' smug reaction when Anthony beckoned for her to come with them.
When they reached a sitting room, Daphne closed the door behind them and Anthony wasted no time; he bent down on one knee and collected a heart shaped ring box from his pocket.
“Miss Sharma,” he said as he opened the box to reveal a gold ring with pearls encircling a diamond.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
Kate felt her hands shake. At night, in her bed, where all of life’s complications fell away, she had imagined Anthony kneeling before her and asking to be his wife. In her fantasies, they were always alone, embracing, or whispering the words of lovers, before he finally made some impassioned declaration about how ardently he loved her. He would ask, she would give her happy acceptance and then they would kiss.
The reality could not be more different. As she stared down at Anthony, his brown eyes void of the passion she had seen last night in the library, she suddenly felt like a mule being sold at auction. Only, she was to sell herself, to save her family.
“I… why me?” she asked, unable to stop the question from falling from her lips. She glanced at the Duchess of Hastings who was pretending to study a book on the far side of the room. “Is it because of what happened last night?”
Anthony frowned and stood, still clutching the ring box, “I am in want of a wife with whom I can build a family and a viscountess who can assume the duties that my mother has been burdened with for far too long. You are a capable woman, Miss Sharma, who has proven herself to be equal to the task of shepherding a young lady into society… a diamond, no less, and I think we will be well suited to each other.”
Kate clasped her hands together.
“Romantic words indeed,” Kate said under her breath.
Anthony stiffened, “What was that?”
Kate sighed, “And what should we tell my sister?”
Anthony shrugged, “I made no promises to Miss Edwina. You are welcome to say whatever you like to her.”
Kate gritted her teeth. “You openly courted her! You invited her to stay here at Aubrey Hall and now you seek to marry me, her sister, without so much as an explanation? She will be heartbroken.”
Anthony snapped the ring box closed.
“I have always maintained my wish to marry without love,” he said stiffly, taking a step toward Kate who stood with her fists balled at her sides, “I am not responsible for her heart.”
“I see,” Kate said shortly, glowering at him,
“You have not given your answer, Miss Sharma,” he said, his expression softening into its former state of vulnerability. He held up the ring in his fingers. She had not seen him take it out of the box.
Kate knew what her answer would be. She had thought about it after the Duchess had discovered them in the library. If Lord Bridgerton decided to propose to her out of a sense of honour she would make the ultimate sacrifice and accept him—to save her family from financial ruin and to allow Edwina the chance to marry for love.
“Yes, I will marry you,” she said apprehensively, her heart hammering against her chest.
His face suddenly shone with a happiness she had not expected. His eyes crinkled as he grinned widely, and took her left hand in his. He slipped the ring onto her finger and gripped her hand tightly in his.
“I cannot give you love, but I promise you will be happy. I will dedicate my life to ensuring you want for nothing,” he declared and the sincerity in his voice took her breath away.
Daphne dropped her book on the floor. Anthony glared at her but Kate was too busy drowning in her own thoughts to pay her any attention.
The viscount had finally admitted he could never love her and the truth of it disappointed her. She knew there was something between them, perhaps it was how she had not fallen all over herself for him like the other debutantes or their mutual competitive spirit that had pricked his desire. Whatever the cause, she felt it too, though she suspected her feelings might grow into something more whereas his would fade. He was a notorious rake, and once he had his fill of her, he would move onto the next woman. As a girl she had always assumed she would marry for love, like her father, and Mary. But the viscount was offering a marriage of duty, and she would be expected to live with him amicably while ignoring talk of his mistresses. She felt her heart sink into her stomach.
She would do this for her family. Edwina deserved the chance to marry for love and Mary could live comfortably for the rest of her life. It would be worth it, in the end. She could find a way to be happy with Lord Bridgerton, even if he could never love her.
“I… hope to be a good wife to you,” she replied, trying hard to keep the disappointment from her voice.
He looked at her quizzically, as if he was trying to guess what she was not saying. She tried to mask her feelings but when he stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek she felt a rush of heat sweep through her body and the mask slipped. Her heart swooped to her stomach and the heat settled uncomfortably, between her legs. She gasped and saw that Anthony too, appeared overcome. His eyes were filled with the same fire she had seen before his sister had interrupted them the night before.
He smiled a little, and then grazed her cheek with his hand, wiping away the wet remnants of his kiss. He cradled her face a moment, as they stared at each other, with Anthony still holding her hand, and playing with the ring on her finger.
“Well suited indeed,” he chuckled, before finally stepping back and releasing her.
Kate exhaled.
“Shall we announce our news to our families?” Anthony asked, offering her his arm with a charming grin plastered on his face.
Kate shook her head, “I must speak with Edwina first.”
Anthony’s happy countenance dropped a little but he seemed to recover swiftly, “Yes, of course. I will have a maid summon her. When you are done we will make the announcement together.”
Daphne and Anthony left the room and a short time later Edwina entered.
Kate felt her chest tighten as she watched Edwina’s expression evolve from shock then to anger as she shared news of their engagement.
“I thought you hated him,” Edwina said, her eyes wide, “And all this time…” Her eyes narrowed, “None of this could have come to pass without something happening between the two of you. Do you have feelings for him?”
Kate hesitated. She did not want to lie but their marriage was not predicated on their feelings so it was irrelevant to share how the viscount made her feel.
“We are not a love match,” she said, maintaining a cool tone. At least it was not a love match for Lord Bridgerton. She was not sure of her own feelings but the fire that he stoked within her could not be normal for a marriage of convenience.
Edwina was sceptical, “I do not believe you. There is something you are keeping from me. Do you know how poorly this will look? Lord Bridgerton clearly made his attentions for me known. The ton is going to think you stole him from me and it seems that is exactly what you have done.”
Kate took a step back, “I did not intend—”
“And yet you accepted!” Edwina shouted back, her pretty face scrunched up in rage, “You knew I loved him but you saw an opportunity and took him anyway.”
Kate shook her head in disbelief, “You love him?” All this time she has thought Edwina simply infatuated, but no, of course, they had feelings for the same man—a man who would break both of their hearts.
“Bon, he asked me and I could not say no. We need—” but her explanation of their dire financial situation was stopped short when the man himself knocked and entered the room.
“Are you ready? The rest cannot wait much longer,” he said, his eyes darting nervously between the two sisters.
Edwina brushed past him and Kate dropped her head in resignation. She knew this would be difficult but she hoped in time Edwina would understand and realise that this was just one of the many sacrifices she made for her and their family.